


Special Kitty

by AssortedGeekery



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Comfort Food, Cute, M/M, Moresomes, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-13 00:36:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4501041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssortedGeekery/pseuds/AssortedGeekery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long missions are the bane of Sephiroth's existence. At least he has someone to take care of him while he deals with them. Even the Great General deserves to be spoiled sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Kitty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Up_sideand_down](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Up_sideand_down/gifts).



> For Up_sideand_down, who wanted to see ASGZC cuteness with most of the cute being directed at Sephiroth. The Great General deserves a little TLC, don't you think?

If Sephiroth was being honest, his least favorite thing about missions- in general, as there were certain aspects of specific mission types that he hated- was _getting_ there. Unless he was running drills in the dead zone outside Midgar, he faced hours of travel by land, air or sea, sometimes a combination thereof. The return trip could usually be shortened with a long nap, but he was always too keyed up on the way out to sleep. And on this mission, he’d been pulled for command duty at the last minute, so there had been no time to chuck a book or a tablet into his rucksack. 

He really needed to start keeping some entertainment permanently in the bag. Unlike most of his fellow SOLDIERs (and most of the regular army), Sephiroth had an old-fashioned canvas rucksack devoted solely to his missions, which prevented the unfortunate appearance of mission gunk and gore in his office. He already stored mission supplies like protein bars, hard candy and water enhancers in it. A book or two could share space at the bottom with his clean socks. He came to the same conclusion on virtually every mission he’d been on in the last six years. 

  


It was too early for the sun to be more than a thin lemony strip of light at the horizon when he jogged out to the airship prepping for takeoff, rucksack bounding against his hip. Something hard was digging into his side overtime he moved…he’d have to rearrange the contents before they landed or the hike to camp was going to be torture. 

Once they were airborne, he hauled the bag into his lap, opened it, and began rooting around inside, searching for the displaced thing. Socks, clean clothes, emergency blanket, blade-cleaning kit, extra knives…and a fabric wrapped package he didn’t remember putting in the bag. Sephiroth fished this out and put his bag aside, placing the mystery in his lap. It was neatly wrapped in a scarf of mottled grey, greens and blues with faint traces of purple. When he untied the knot at the top, the whole thing unfolded, stiffened canvas opening up like petals without the restraining knot. Inside, a thin fork and spoon were tucked into a pocket in the fabric, gleaming dully alongside a collection of neatly wrapped or tied packages. One corner of an envelope poked out from under it all, and as Sephiroth pulled it free, he knew where it had all come from. The paper was heavy and slightly softer than normal under his fingers, high-quality linen-based paper and a custom wax seal.

  


_Quit leaving without eating breakfast. You know you’re an ass without it. And read this before you get back._

_-Genesis_

  


When all the little packages were unwrapped, Sephiroth had breakfast in his lap: a hefty wedge of frittata studded with shards of bacon, a breakfast bar with thick strawberry rhubarb filling, two pieces of whole fruit, a little vacuum bottle of coffee and a chocolate muffin. The largest package had held a book about a chef Sephiroth could only assume Genesis was currently obsessed with. It would probably be a new chef by the time he came home. 

Still, it was nice to have a homemade breakfast, and the book was good. 

* * *

Extermination missions had their own special brand of unpleasantness. Even more so when they were remote missions and not centered around any significant human population. Sephiroth couldn’t remember the last time he had been able to really wash. There had been awkward and chilly scrubs with a sponge in a nearby river, but that had to be soapless to avoid contaminating the water. Dry shampoo stretched the days he could go without having to hop back into the river and one of his smaller knives served to get the worst of the gunk from under his nails, but he dreamed of a hot shower and proper soap. 

Sephiroth was acutely aware of how he smelled when the rotation finally worked around in his favor and he could board the airship homewards. He tucked himself in a back corner of the transport and settled in to finish Genesis’ book. 

No one met him on the airfield, but it was late in the day and working hours for most departments were over. Without him at home, Genesis and Angeal would have had extra work to do. Sephiroth understood, but it still meant a lonely walk back to his quarters. 

Which…were not empty.

  


“Shiva’s _tits_ , Seph, you _reek_!” Zack howled the moment Sephiroth got in the door. Cloud scooted around him to snatch his rucksack and coat away, hanging both up before vanishing back into the kitchen. Sephiroth was fairly certain he smelled dinner, but it was hard to be sure over the smell of his own body. 

“Swampland,” he muttered. “And no proper facilities.” 

“Yeah, no kidding. Come on, get your boots off.” The minute Sephiroth did so, Cloud reappeared, grabbing the filthy things and booking it out onto the balcony. While he stared after the little blond, Zack took his hand and pulled him towards the bathroom. It was already steamy, the shower running hot. Sephiroth made a weak sound of joy and let Zack help him strip off his sticky, sweaty uniform. Cloud came back to whisk it away while Sephiroth threw himself into the tiled space and under the rain-head, face turned up into the deluge.

“There’s _got_ to be a way for you to clean up on the field,” Zack murmured, following him in. “Like….you think you could get a solar shower in your pack? Or make it standard equipment for the base camps?” 

“We need better biodegradable soap first,” Sephiroth admitted. “Otherwise it’s just….” 

“Just what the company’s been doing for years,” Zack finished, pulling a stool over and tugging Sephiroth down to sit. “Destroying the environment. I know. Close your eyes.” 

Sephiroth obeyed, relaxing while Zack angled the shower head out of the way and began working shampoo into his hair. 

“At least you kept it all untangled…or did you have t’ comb it all out on the flight back?” 

“Kept it braided most of the time,” he murmured. “Too many things to catch it on if I’d worn it loose.” 

“Uh-huh. Looks good. You’re due for a trim, though. I’ll tell Genesis.” “Mmmmhm.” 

Zack washed and rinsed his hair, worked the conditioner in, and left it to sit while he directed Sephiroth to give him one limb after another, which he scrubbed thoroughly and inspected for injury. 

“I’m _fine_ , Zack.” 

“Just checking.” 

“I would have gone to medical.” 

“You didn’t last time.” 

“A few little cuts and scrapes isn’t worthy of medical.” 

“We had to pull three thorns out of your back.” 

“I can’t reach back there!” 

“Just…let me check. Cloud will want to know anyway.” 

Sephiroth sighed and submitted, getting up so Zack could finish scrubbing. “I could have done this myself, you know.” 

“Yeah, so? I like doing it.” 

“You just wanted an excuse to get your hands on me when I’m too tired to defend myself.” 

Zack chuckled. “Uh- _huh_ , sure. I prefer it when you’ve got the energy to keep up with me.” 

Eventually, Zack herded him out of the shower and dried him off, allowing Sephiroth to manage his own hair (with some protest). 

“Are you guys done yet?” Cloud demanded from the doorway. “Dinner’s almost ready. Zack, I didn’t spend all day on this so you could let it get cold.” 

“Sorry, sorry. C’mon, Seph.” 

  


Dinner was hot and hearty, exactly what Sephiroth wanted after weeks of field rations and whatever edible animals he or the others in camp could take down supplementing the supplies the company sent out. The bread was fresh, studded with flax seeds, and still warm enough to melt the butter he spread on it. Cloud’s stew was thick with vegetables and chunks of tender meat he didn’t have to question the edibility of. Cloud had even gone to the effort of talking someone- he suspected Genesis- into picking up a rich red wine to compliment it.

  


After dinner, Sephiroth was shooed away to the living room, where he sprawled on the couch and slowly combed his damp hair out.

“Gimme,” Cloud demanded, gesturing at the hair in his hands. 

“Mm?” 

“You’ve been away for weeks. Your hair needs attention.” 

“Really, Cloud, it’s fine….” 

Cloud shook his head, taking the comb away and making grabby hands until Sephiroth let go of his hair, allowing the blond to gather it up and pull it over the back of the couch. He heard the sound of a cap popping open and looked back at a familiar smell. 

“You-“ 

“I got Genesis to pretty much buy out the most recent shipment,” Cloud explained, drizzling oil into his hand and beginning to work it into Sephiroth’s hair. “They were more than happy to consider making special orders for you in the future.” 

Sephiroth blushed. His fondness for that particular brand of oil treatment was almost embarrassing and he had always tried to stretch the bottles he bought, to avoid being seen in the shop too often. The effect it had on his hair, however, made it very hard for him to ration the stuff; hair as long as his required a lot of attention and any product that kept it sleek and pettily soft was worth it’s weight in gold. 

Cloud combed, oiled and braided Sephiroth’s hair while the General slowly relaxed into a doze, humming quietly to himself as he worked. When he’d finished, he fetched Zack and together they coaxed Sephiroth into bed. 

* * *

 Angeal was in the kitchen when Sephiroth crawled out of bed the next morning, making pancakes long after everyone else had gone in to work. 

“Morning off,” he explained when Sephiroth shuffled in, bleary-eyed and yawning. “Breakfast?” 

“ _Please_.” 

“Coffee?” 

“You’re an _angel_.” 

Angeal laughed and handed over a mug, which Sephiroth worked on while the first few pancakes came off the griddle, steaming and golden and perfectly fluffy. He checked under the lid of the frying pan, sending up a cloud of savory steam under which sausages sizzled. 

“You can sit, you know,” Angeal reminded him, settling several fat sausages beside the pancake stack. 

“I’ll wait. More coffee?” 

“In the pot,” he chuckled. 

When there were enough pancakes for two- and a few more leftover for Zack to eat cold- Angeal moved plates and syrup and butter to the table, Sephiroth trailing behind him with coffee. Angeal settled in his chair, scooting it back so that Sephiroth could settle in his lap. He was really too tall to be doing it, but he did it anyway, and as Angeal was the only person who didn’t completely vanish under him, Angeal’s was the lap of choice. 

“I missed real breakfasts,” Sephiroth sighed, wrapping a pancake around a sausage link and eating it like a hot dog. “Hot breakfasts too.” 

“No oatmeal?” Angeal ventured, reaching around Sephiroth to liberally butter his pancakes before pouring syrup over them. 

“Never mind that I like it, it’s not a popular camp food. Probably because they never put anything in it so it’s just….oat sludge.” Sephiroth sighed and finished his pancake, then reached for another one. Angeal reached around him to pull a jam jar into range, so he spread apricot jam on the next pancake before rolling it around a fresh sausage. “We’d need a decent supply of sugar, for one. And probably some milk or at least a passable milk substitute. And half the men I know won’t touch anything with coconut milk in it, so that’s out.” 

“We’ll figure something out eventually,” Angeal promised. “Don’t fuss.” 

“Am not,” he muttered, stuffing pancake into his mouth. 

“Mmmmhm. Welcome home, Seph.”


End file.
